Waiting To Tell You
by Miaka Kennyuuki
Summary: Harry contemplates how his life and the lives of those around him have been lived, and the reason he has decided to change. Sequel to Behind Blue Eyes. HD Slash
1. Waiting 1

Hey! Remember Behind Blue Eyes? Well, here's a sequel! My first sequel! I'm so friggin' proud I could die! But seriously, I want you guys to enjoy this. Many of you asked for this and I'm giving it to you. Oh, and CuriousDreamWeaver, you are the absolute best. You've reviewed every single one of my fics and I feel as if you are my fan of fans. *tear* Thank you.  
  
Miaka  
  
Waiting (To Tell You) by Miaka Kennyuuki  
  
(Songfic) slash - Draco/Harry PG-13  
  
Summary: Harry contemplates how his life and the lives of those around him have been lived, and the reason he has decided to change.  
  
//I've been waiting for a good day I've been holding back long enough I've been hurting to tell you some things//  
  
"Head on Collision", New Found Glory  
  
*Harry's POV*  
  
Quidditch. The game of wizards. The one thing you can always depend on when things go bad. Did the Quidditch World Cup get canceled because Voldemort was still at large? No! It was still there, helping the people believe that everything would be alright. Granted, the Cup only happened because the Ministry denied Voldemort...but I'm not worrying about that!  
  
That's what I, Harry Potter, was thinking of the morning Draco Malfoy received a letter, turned paler than usual, and let egg fall from his mouth. Strange to be so intent on Quidditch, I know, but if I don't think of something, I revert back to being depressed and unmanageable. People had been dying so frequently around me, it was a wonder that I didn't commit suicide. Came pretty close, but that's another story.  
  
Anyway, Malfoy was much paler than usual, and many stared at him as he read the letter, paled even more, and let his mouth hang open even more. At one point he looked up at Snape, then back at the letter, and started muttering to himself. I thought this was just a tad bit strange. I mean, I'm not an expert on Malfoy, but the fact that he was deathly pale instead of elegantly pale, and that he dropped egg on his designer robes was enough to make even me worry.  
  
And that got me to thinking. Who could be sending him a letter so shocking, so frightening, that he would risk the two most important things in his life -his clothes and his image- because of it. There were only two things, or should I say people, that I could come up with, but I had to cross one off. And I'm pretty sure finding out that he was betrothed to Pansy and she was having his child would elicit a bit more of a reaction than shocked silence.  
  
But that left Lucius Malfoy.  
  
The lord of Malfoy Manor, Lucius Damien Malfoy Esq, though not incredibly well known to me, seemed the type of man to strike fear into the hearts of men. Or boys. Or various animals. The man was an animal himself. I prided myself on my interpretations of character, and I'm pretty sure the man is as much of a bastard as I believe him to be.  
  
Which means that the letter was most likely about Malfoy's initiation into the Death Eater circle. Now here's a fun fact many don't know. Malfoy doesn't want to become a Death Eater. What, don't believe me? Here's another fun fact. The innocent, goody-goody Harry Potter has his own information ring. Everything and everyone who's anything at all, I know about. And Malfoy is the topic of much conversation.  
  
For instance, I knew that Malfoy liked sunsets and walks around the lake simply to enjoy the autumn day. His favorite season is autumn, and Malfoy had a strange craving for parsnips when it rained. The blond Slytherin liked coffee with a dab of chocolate to substitute milk, I got that from a first year, and when it rained Malfoy would sneak out and dance in it, seemingly at his happiest. Also, I knew that he rather like the Weasley twins, that he liked apple juice over pumpkin juice (freakish, I know), and that when he was five he was captured by a Devil's Snare and cried to his Mum and had a huge tantrum. Useless information to some, but it gave me insight into a complex mind.  
  
Recently I'd received an anonymous post (my informants), telling me that they overheard Malfoy telling Blaise Zabini that he didn't want to lick Voldemort's boots like his father. I also now had\ve an extended list of the Malfoy family rules, listed little by little over the years by Malfoy himself. I have great connections in Slytherin. Most of them are friends who fear for Malfoy and expect me to save him. Others just got a kick out of being on my payroll. And yes, I do pay them. What's the point of having so many galleons if I don't use them?  
  
But I digress. I had to leave the Great Hall that morning to go to the Owlry to send a note to one of my people to find out what was in that letter. It was essential to my investigation of Malfoy. Or that's what I tell myself. The truth is, I'm fascinated by the pale blond. Have you ever seen him right after a Quidditch practice, sweaty and flushed, a small smirk on that pale face? No? Well, damn, are you missing out!  
  
Draco Malfoy was perfection in human form, and I'd be damned if I'd spend years in denial like some people were. Fuck that! I wanted Malfoy, and I knew it. Didn't mean I'd tell him I liked him. But I'd been holding back for so long, waiting for a good day to tell him something, anything, as long as it wasn't a cruel word, a hex, or a curse.  
  
Oh well. There will be other days.  
  
***TBC*** 


	2. Waiting 2

Waiting (To Tell You) by Miaka Kennyuuki  
  
(Songfic) slash - Draco/Harry PG-13  
  
Summary: Harry contemplates how his life and the lives of those around him have been lived, and the reason he has decided to change.  
  
//It's not the falling of the temperature That's making all our bones run cold It's the breeze you make, The presence felt when you're around me And it feels like I'm at an all time low//  
  
"Head on Collision'', New Found Glory  
  
*Harry's POV*  
  
Madam Malkins Robes for All Occasions. The place where I first met Malfoy. I was with Hagrid, buying my school supplies, awed at the magical world around me. Those blasted Muggles back home had kept me sheltered for a whole ten years of my life, fearing my magic and considering it, and me, disgusting and beyond redemption. Personally, I just think their jealous that I can do things easier than they can. I mean really, if Uncle Vernon hated magic so much, why'd he marry Petunia, who I know for a fact is just a bitter squib?  
  
Anyway, I walked into the robe shoppe, my oversized sweater slipping off my shoulder, my thin frame just visible through the neck. One hand held up the oversized jeans I wore, and the other pressed my glasses onto my nose. I looked around the shoppe and smiled shyly, hoping my bedraggle appearance didn't put anyone off. I was alone, Hagrid off to get my owl, and I didn't know what I was doing.  
  
But then I saw him, the strangest looking creature I had ever seen. A small boy, a bit taller than me, with hair so blond it was almost white, a pointed chin that lent to his feminine features, and eyes so light a blue they looked grey, like tempered steel. He was standing on a raised platform, being measured by a buxom woman wearing dark blue robes. He stood tall, regal, scanning the room as if he owned it, and looking down at the woman as if she were below him. Technically, she was, but you know what I mean.  
  
He looked up then, and our eyes met. One thing I'd accepted about myself a long time ago is that I had the most beautiful green eyes many have ever seen. I don't mean to be conceited or anything, but my eyes were so nice looking, I sometimes got out of punishment because of them. But the eyes I met that day were by far overshadowing mine. They were deep, swirling pools of contradiction and disdain, and they drew me in like a whirlpool. I almost didn't here him speak.  
  
I don't think I was very homosexual at the time of this encounter, but I know beauty when I see it, hear it, touch it, whatever. And the voice that came from that miniature version of Malfoy was cute, high, and melodious. Nowadays it flows like harp music, instead of tinkling like a little bell, but the effect was the same either way. I was fascinated.  
  
Until I heard what he had to say. He asked my name, and I told him, carefully avoiding my last name. It seemed to elicit weird reactions in the people around me. At the time I didn't get the whole famous Boy-Who-Lived crap, but I knew what was setting them off, and I wasn't about to set him off.  
  
He told me his name was Draco Malfoy, and that he hoped he'd be in Slytherin. Irrationally, I hoped so too, if only to be around this boy. I was brought up to stand on a raised platform beside him, and as I was fitted, Malfoy explained the four Houses. By the end, I was on equal uncertainty with Gryffindor and Slytherin. Both sounded smashing, even in his disdainful terms.  
  
I was about to ask him something else, when Hagrid knocked on the window. I turned to him and saw him hold up two melting icecreams, the reason why he couldn't come in. I smiled and waved. Malfoy sniffed and turned away. He then proceeded to denounce the one person who had been nice to me since I was one. Right about then was when all that 'good will towards me' shite flew right out the window. But before I could deck him, the woman working on me announced that she was done and I could go. I left, my impression of Malfoy would forever be bad. Or so I thought.  
  
The second encounter was just as bad. I met Ron Weasley on the train, and he told me all about Malfoy's and the Houses you didn't want to be in. Or what his father says about the Malfoys' and the Houses. By the time Ron was done, I hated Slytherin and had a strong dislike for Malfoy. Now that I look back on it, I sometimes wish Ron hadn't managed to corrupt me like that. As Malfoy would say, Ron was a simpleton. No offense to him or anything, but he sat there for hours after his 'hate Malfoy, hate Slytherin' speech, staring at my forehead.  
  
Malfoy entered our compartment, and I wasn't too happy to see him. Damn Ron. Anyway, he held out his hand to me and asked me to be his friend. Not in such nice words, or course, but I understood where he was going with it. Unfortunately he had to mention something about knowing who the right sort are, completely falling into the web Ron had spun in my mind. I immediately lashed out, refusing his friendship along the way. I regret that to this day. I love Ron like a brother, but his dumbshit ways ruined that chance for me.  
  
The last time I met Malfoy before our rivalry really got going was on the Entrance Hall stairs after the Welcoming Feast. He asked for my hand in friendship again, but moments before that he'd insulted Ron. Now Ron was okay and all, but the only reason I ever get upset when he is criticized is because Ron's mother helped me out, and since she wasn't there, I had to cling to Ron, my link to her. As a result of all this complex thinking, I refused him a third time. Third times the charm, right.  
  
I was beyond right. That third time sparked a rivalry so vicious, so brutal, it would go down in Hogwarts history forever. It was thought to be even more intense than the one between Lucius Malfoy and James Potter. We really shook up this old castle. I can think back on it and smile now. Before I would grimace and kick something.  
  
Malfoy had always managed to draw such strong reactions from me. It was most likely his aura, the presence felt when he was around me. Whenever I was feeling at an all time low, Malfoy would do something, say something, that would revive the fire in my blood.  
  
Despite how much of an arsehole he is, Malfoy isn't have bad, is he?  
  
***TBC*** 


	3. Waiting 3

Waiting (To Tell You) by Miaka Kennyuuki  
  
(Songfic) slash - Draco/Harry PG-13  
  
Summary: Harry contemplates how his life and the lives of those around him have been lived, and the reason he has decided to change.  
  
Slightly bruised and broken

From this head on collision

I've never seen this side of you

Another tragic case of feeling

Bruised and broken

From this head on collision

I've never seen this side of you

Another tragic case...

"Head on Collision," by New Found Glory

Harry's POV

Sometimes people fight about stupid things. Things that have no bearing on life, or are none of someone's business, or just seems incredibly childish. And people rarely have the faculties to know when to stop while they're ahead. Despite the fact that in cases such as this, they aren't ahead anyway.

This seems to happen a lot between me and Malfoy. Just the other day in Potions, I childishly threw a Fabulous Fillibuster's Wet-Start, No-Heat Firework into Malfoy's Mist Potion. Malfoy retaliated by pushing me into my Mist Potion. Unfortunately, my potion making skills aren't the best, so my Mist Potion was actually a very badly done Shrinking Potion. The result was a very embarrassed me in an incredibly small set of school robes that happened to be cutting off my circulation.

Snape, my all-time favorite Professor –not- laughed his bony ass off, then gave me detention for disrupting the class. Then the bloody bastard had the nerve to give Malfoy a pat on the back! ::cough:: Sorry about that outburst. Snape really gets me going. Anyway, that night I arrived for my detention about fifteen minutes early. Snape had a tendency to take off points for even a millisecond late, but I'd discovered that even his cruelty didn't extend to honest punctuality. Lucky for me he hadn't decided to dock points for over punctuality.

With that thought in mind I decided to wait outside the Potions classroom until the minute before my detention. That way Snape could only dock 60 points for every second in case he suddenly discovers the possibility of an over punctuality clause. Unfortunately for me, it seemed that Malfoy had decided that night was a good night to wander the Dungeons unheeded. It didn't take him long to spot me, and the smirk that spread along that pale face was satisfied and a bit anticipatory. Irrationally, I was pleased by the thought that I was the only one able to elicit that smirk more than once a day.

He approached me, that sexy smirk still in place – what? It's sexy. I'm not in denial, remember? – And just stood there, watching me. I couldn't see the point in this venture, so I tentatively stared back. What was the meaning of this? Was this a new form of torture? While these thoughts flew through my head, the cloak ticked by unheeded. Malfoy smirked and watched, I stared and wondered. And the clock struck 8:00pm. Malfoy all out grinned. And I realized what he'd been doing. I was late!

Rage consumed me faster than it ever has before, and I lunged at the pleased blond. Not a single important thought crossed my mind but killing the annoyingly handsome little git. Not that I was late for detention and Snape was most likely happily docking points behind this very door. Not that if Snape caught me, I'd probably lose more than my freedom. I only wanted to hurt Malfoy, make him feel what I was feeling.

I punched, he kicked, I pummeled, and he pounded. We rolled, thrashed, tumbled, and pretty much threw ourselves into the fight. Malfoy exaggerated every punch he received, loudly and obnoxiously. Most likely to attract Snape's attention. I gritted my teeth and tried to remember what a git he was. But it was a bit hard, with Malfoy moaning and groaning like he was. It was sort of turning me on.

As soon as that thought entered my head I rolled off of him and leaned against the dungeon wall. Malfoy sat up and immediately began dusting himself off. His normally impeccable robes were rumpled, and his ungelled blond hair was tousled and hanging everywhere. He looked well snogged. I pinched myself to atone for the thought. As I was coming down from the pain, the classroom door opened and Snape came out. He survey the scene for a split second, gave me a week's detention for fighting, being late for detention, and being the stupid ponce that I am, then ushered Malfoy to Madam Pomphrey. As Snape left, his parting shot included another detention on the Hogsmeade weekend next Saturday to clean every shelf in the classroom, and fifty points from Gryffindor.

I didn't even bother to growl. What was the point? What could I do? The only way I'd ever get Snape to like me was to shag him, and sorry, but no can do. Ever. Not in a million years. Not for all the money, magic or naked Malfoy's in the world. Okay, that last one slipped in. You can probably guess what I was thinking about.

I think a trip to Madam Pomphrey is in order. This black eye is going to look ugly tomorrow. And hey, maybe I'd see Malfoy.

TBC


End file.
